


Family

by Prisioux



Series: AU Ressurection-Daenerys [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Daenerys Resurrection Week, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, F/M, Jonerys Endgame, drw day 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23543728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prisioux/pseuds/Prisioux
Summary: After the initial shock, Jon and Daenerys have a heart to heart; meanwhile, Arya Stark continues on her quest.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: AU Ressurection-Daenerys [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691692
Comments: 31
Kudos: 85





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> My answer to the prompt : Resurrection with Boatbaby
> 
> Hey guys, comments are open. I want everybody to be comfortable sharing ideas, impressions etc without being trolled. I will delete comments with offensive ideas language.

Ever since she woke up at Valyria with only Drogon by her side and a dagger on her chest, Daenerys imagined what would life look life had Jon made a different choice that fateful day.

Would she manage to, somehow, rectify her last and greatest mistake by bringing peace and prosperity to the realm? Would she right all the wrongs, do what she needed to do to see the land recover and heal after years of war, starvation, and disease?

She had no way of knowing.

All she could do was to move on, to do better for herself, to protect their own.

_ If I look back, I am lost. _

***

Although the last years brought Daenerys, for many reasons, a measure of solace to her heart, had she been granted an opportunity to undo what she have done, she would not have hesitated.

Could the same be said about the boy king, the one they call the broken, she asked herself one night.

Again, she could not be sure. In retrospect, it was obvious that something was terribly wrong with that young man. Daenerys reception at the North had been so cold, so unfriendly that she decided it was best not to make things worse, but, as far as she could tell, for what she had heard of Westeros lately, her choice had been the wrong one.

Bran and his mysterious powers had not helped much in the fight. Still, he ended up with a Crown.

Why?

_ What if he had seen it all...his Powers were supposed to be limitless. What if he knew what would happen but chose not to do anything to prevent it? What if he knew and actually worked to make it happen? _

***

Now that Jon was there and Daenerys could finally see first hand what meant to have Brandon Stark as King, her doubts regarding Bran´s guilt suddenly evaporated.

Bran Stark was the great other.

But there was more in life than fighting for survival. Daenerys would not go back. She was happy, alive, thriving. They would not force her hand. She would take her own time, place the safety of her dragons before all others and stay where she was.

Because not only she had home now, but also, a family.

***

The sight of an emotionally exhausted Jon shocked Daenerys to her core. She had expected many things, but not that. He could barely speak, so broken that he was.

It was not fair, Daenerys told herself, to feel sorry for this man. He had killed her- in the most dishonourable way. Not satisfied, he had obviously been sent to Essos by the Starks. His sister, the one with the valyrian steel dagger, was somewhere in Manatarys. If it was possible that Jon wanted forgiveness, Arya Stark certainly wanted only her blood.

Regardless of his intentions for coming all this way, Daenerys found it impossible to put the blame solely on Jon´s shoulders.

The truth was, she had forgiven Jon a long time ago.

Forgiven - not forgotten.

***

Once again, Jon Snow had placed Daenerys Targaryen in an awkward position- a victim comforting her assaulter.

In normal circumstances, Daenerys would not be that kind. Jon Snow had not only betrayed her, but murdered her in cold blood. The Law was clear and his punishment should be death. She would be in her rights to have him executed by Drogon on the spot, but Daenerys was not only kind, but intelligent.

Jon´s death would bring her nothing but some months of peace.

The Starks would send others, perhaps even start a war...

Jon and Daenerys needed each other. Him,  her forgiveness and she, his allegiance.

While Daenerys was being honest when she told Jon he was “home”- for Valyria was the place Targaryens hailed from- there was not only a second meaning behind her generous words, but also another reason to offer this shadow of a man a second chance to be by her side.

_Two_ reasons, to be more precise. 

“Jon, I want you to meet two people.”

***

Daeron was his name. A finer lad Jon had never seen. The long, almost solemn face was gladly not marred by the unhappiness that plagued both Jon and Daenery's childhoods, for Daeron was quick to smile and even quicker to laugh at his father´s clumsy attempts at playfulness.

Rhaena, on the other hand, was far less interested in the visitor, more concerned about the fact that her dragon egg was yet to be hatched.

And she obviously expected more out of that day than the reappearance of her sire.

“This is not fair! I thought _my_ dragon would come today. I dreamed it ! A new dragon - mine! ” the small girl said almost in tears, her gentle brown eyes looking at Jon in confusion and anger “ insteaof my dragon,  _ he _ came!”

Daenerys knew she should reprimand the girl- this was no way to treat guests- but truth be told, she too was unsure of how well she should welcome Jon back into their lives- or how much she could tell him about her new life and their children. 

Things like that need time and time was running out.

Daenerys needed to do something- and do it fast.

More out of maternal duty than out of real concern for Jon´s feelings, Daenerys firmly, but gently, told Rhaena her present behaviour was nothing to be proud of- only to regret it almost instantly, when the girl starting crying _real_ tears. 

“ Shush- it is fine, sweetheart. The dragon will wake up one day. I promise you, Rhaena- you just need to wait.”

As she hugged her little girl waiting for the tantrum to wear off, Daenerys observed Jon with great curiosity. He was playing with Daeron, showing the boy Longclaw, but also nervously glancing at Rhaena´s direction from time to time, to see if the tears had dried out and the sobs, stopped.

Daenerys liked what she saw in Jon´s eyes. He was clearly delighted in spending time with Daeron, but also upset his daughter was less than happy at the moment.

She smiled. 

Not even a quarter of an hour in their company and Jon was completely mesmerized by the children-  _ his children. _

_ Mayhaps Rhaena does not need to wait much longer- the dragon has finally awaken. _

_ *** _

It was as Daenerys had expected: almost impossible to put the little ones to bed after so much excitement.

Rhaena had a change of heart regarding Jon and it was now eagerly disputing their visitor´s attention with her brother. 

Daenerys indulged her children for a while, allowing them an additional hour over their established bedtime, but eventually she called Jhiqui and instructed her friend to take the twins to their bedroom and tell them stories.

It was time to have a much important conversation with Jon, one that would decide not only her family´s fate, but quite possibly o f the whole world.

***

As soon as she barred the door of the tiny study, Daenerys went straight to the point. 

“ Before you ask: yes, I was with child when you killed me- or tried to. I don´t remember the darkness you described to me once. I could listen to the sounds of Drogon´s wings, feel the cold air on my cheeks- but could not move, nor speak. It was like when you are sleeping, but not soundly. I woke up on an island, near a volcano. I instinctively knew where it was- the place where Targaryens first bonded with their dragons. Something brought me back, either from death or from the brinks of death, and a moon turn later, I found out about the children.”

By this point in her story, the blood had been entirely drained from Jon´s face- and Daenerys momentarily lost her patience. “ Do us a favor and spare me of your tears. Yes, you almost killed your children. Yes, I forgave you a long, long time ago. And yes, I can imagine why you came all this way here, with Arya Stark no less.”

The not so gentle warning worked like magic and Jon was suddenly all ears. 

He decided to tell her everything. 

No more secrets.

“ We have been tasked by the Starks to investigate the rumours of your return. Tyrion does not believe you survived and thinks the Red Priestesses are using some sort of look-alike to fulfill their agendas .Brandon, on the other hand, does not _care_ about you personally, but wants to kill the dragon…”

“Dragons, Jon " Daenerys interrupted. " Your cousin wants to kill dragons. All of them-  _ all of us.” _

***

“What are you going to do, Jon? How far are you willing you go to defend your family this time around?”

For the first time in all these years, the answer was clear to Jon: “ My family is right here, in this house. _Home_ , you said. How far would I go, you ask? To defend my children? To atone for what I have done? There is nothing I would not do, Dany, to have my family safe and sound, protected and cherished, loved and cared for.”

Daenerys knew it was true. she could, finally trust Jon. This, somehow, made everything even more difficult. It brought back those painful memories, of Jon stuck in the middle, indecisive, scared, weak. 

Had Jon been this open to her when they had been together, things would have been different.

This realization made Daenerys both angry and hopeful at the same time: angry about their shared past, but hopeful about their future.

Suddenly, Jon stood up, a look of disgust visible on his face.

“ Arya is at the Inn. You need not worry-I know what I have to do. It is not your fault it came to this, but mine.”

“While I agree you are to blame, I am far from innocent in all this.” Daenerys conceded, waving her hand at Jon. “ I am not asking what you think I am asking you to do, Jon.”

This confused Jon. Daenerys had forgiven him- had she forgiven to Starks too? 

Even if that was the case, they certainly would not forgive _her-_ or show any mercy to their children:

“So, what should we do then, Dany? Arya came here to help me kill a dragon. Any dragon, beast or human, is a foe of the Starks, and Arya is a Stark through and through.”

Daenerys understood Jon´s line of thought. If they-  _ she _ \- allowed the north woman to leave Mantarys alive, she would make her mission to alert her family, or maybe even come back by herself and hunt they all down.

But Jon did not know the whole picture- Daenerys was far from being defenseless.

***

While Daenerys had forgiven and moved on with her life, she had learned her lessons. Trust is something to be gained, not given, and the safety of her children would always come first. 

She took her role as a mother seriously and was not without means or allies. “ Even before I learned of the pregnancy, I declined to take back my throne at Meereen for a reason. I wanted to be forgotten, to finally be allowed to live my life as my own person. To achieve that, I could not sit on a Throne and rule as a Queen. I caved my own way and moved forward. Took only what was good from my past and forgot about the bad. But I always knew my enemies would not forget about me, so I did not forget about them.” 

Jon watched as Daenerys opened a small drawer on the left side of her wooden cabinet, revealing a pile of notes: “ Pentos, the second day of the third month, 311 A.C-.  **J** is yet to be seen out of the boat; **A** wore a new face and went to a tavern- she has developed a taste for wine. Lys, tenth day of the third month, 311...”

The notes were succinct but accurate. Their secret journey, the one Arya had personally organized, had been anything but a secret: Daenerys had known all along and the only reason they eventually found her was because she wanted to see how far they would go.

At this moment, Jon  _ knew _ Arya´s days were numbered. The girl who had once been his sister would not give up- she would either kill or be killed.

“  _ How _ ?” he asked “  _ Who _ ?”

“Braavos was founded by slaves who escaped the mines of Old Valyria. They are natural allies. My aim is to abolish slavery on ethical grounds, but societies were built around this unjust system and once the slaves free themselves from their shackles, their cities collapse. Braavos deasl with the economic repercussions of this massive undertaking, and when I say they, I include the braavosi institutions.

Their institutions are free to act as they see fit, as long as they report matters of national security back to the Sealord and work in tandem with them when there is need. As you can imagine, a westerosi princess who not only escaped training at the hands of the Faceless Men, but also is now seeking to kill one of their allies, that would classify as a matter of national security.”

***

Arya Stark had lied: she did not come along on this journey to help Jon kill a dragon as much as she came to remind Jon _he_ had to kill a dragon.

“Samwell said Jon is still hurting for what he did- that he keeps seeing fault in everybody, but in _ her. _ “ Sansa said that morning they all met at the Small Council chambers to access how to better approach their notoriously sour cousin.

Arya knew Jon. He was dutiful, but emotional- weak even. He was in love. The bitch had bewitched him and he had fallen hard. Arya did not understand what all the fuss was about- Gendry had been pleasant, she supposed, but love was not something worth losing yourself over. 

Mayhaps it was because they- Jon, Gendry- were men, and therefore, more prone to dumbness? One night with her and Gendry had- what was the word- _ proposed? _

Brandon, the poor soul, said nothing; he was clearly out of depth when it came to discussing things like feelings, emotions...human subjects one might say.

Arya too, to be honest, was not as well versed in said matters. In all truth, those discussions made her uncomfortable. They reminded her of life before they went south, of times long gone, things she would never have…

But she had never really wanted it, had she? Arya remembered that conversation with her father- she never wanted a family of her own, a husband to love, a castle to manage...

Jon, she assumed, was the same. They were both different, cut from a different cloth than their other siblings. 

But Arya had been wrong. Jon was not like her. Jon, Arya realized, simply never thought himself worthy of such things, so he did not allow himself to luxury of even dreaming about it.

To Arya, either way, it was all nonsense. 

“Then we must remind Jon where he came from, of who raised him, of who he is.” Arya said firmly. She had heard the tale, of how Jon had fought tooth and nails to save Rickon, to retake Winterfell. The North, the Starks, The Watch- this was all that Jon had left.

Surely it _still_ meant something to him. 

But would that be _enough?_

This, Arya was not so sure:“ I will go with him.”

***

As expected, Sansa protested her sister´s idea. “ But Arya, you have just returned. We need you _here_. Must I remind you that you a---”

“ Your heir?” Arya rolled her eyes. They had this conversation time and time again. Again, this reminder in the middle of an important meeting made her quite uneasy. 

“I know my responsibilities, Sansa. Our name will go on. I agreed to stay a couple of years at Winterfell, to take a husband and give you a proper heir, remember?” 

Sansa nodded, face slightly red. 

It was a sore subject- it would always be. 

***

While the Stark sisters were as different as night and day, they both agreed on the matter of husbands: neither wanted them. Unfortunely, in time, they both found out they needed them. Sansa, because once she declared herself Queen, she was dutybound to provide The North with the stability that came with the continuation of their lines; and Arya, because since Sansa had been incapable of bearing a babe despite attempting to, the duty was transferred to her, who still was, by all states and purposes, their apparent.

A compromise was made. Arya would stay long enough to marry and have a child. They weer Starks, not Mormonts, and they needed to stick by the rules. Arya would have the child and Sansa would raise it. 

Arya, and her husband she supposed, would also participate, of course. She had agreed to visit Winterfell from time to time and oversee the child´s martial education.

It was not perfect, it disturbed the plans she had made, but it was what needed to be done and Arya was dutiful too, in her own way.

Also, Arya needed a distraction and killing a dragon seemed a good idea: “ As far as I can see, if I don’t go, we risk Jon being fooled by one of those red priestesses into believing the bitch is alive. Who knows of what these people can do? Bran is powerful but they also have their tricks…”

***

Arya saw with her own eyes and _yet_...she did not want to believe it.

Daenerys was alive.

She had a dragon.

She had dragon eggs.

Worse: she had children.

Arya was incensed. _ Sansa. _ Her sister- her poor, brilliant sister. 

What Sansa would not give to have children?

_ But they will not live long enough.  _ Bad as it was, Arya would have to do it- by herself.

As usual. 

As always.

Jon too, would have to die. He had changed. Arya could see the bitch would convince him those children were his...

Or mayhaps...

_ No, Jon did not lie, He killed her. They brought her back- the fire-worshippers. She found herself a man and got with child.  _

_ No, Jon did not lie to us.  _

Could she save Jon? Was Jon even worth saving? Arya did not have much time to think- she had to think fast, to act before someon---

“Well, well, well " A voice said in the darkness, a voice Arya knew only too well. " a girl does not know when to stop and will pay for it.”

***

**Three months later**

The weather was great that day, sunny and warm but not overly so. Jon decided it was the perfect occasion to take the children for a swim before they were to move. 

Rhaena still needed assistance with her laps, but Daeron was as good as Jon had been at his age, seemingly not tiring even after an hour had passed.

“Papa! Papa!” the girl screamed at the top of her lungs. “ Do it again! Again!”

Rhaena was not as physically active as her father or brother, but she loved watching them training at arms. Sometimes she joined too- Daenerys insisting their daughter learned tod defend herself.

Jon had just showed Daeron how to properly tackle an opponent, and the boy fell on his bum, to the obvious delight of his sister.

“ Could we stay a bit longer and build a castle?”

Daeron was already tired, but Rhaena still wanted to enjoy the day. Jon knew they had to return shortly, but he asked the three Unsullied who were guarding them if they minded to wait just ten more minutes.

It took double the time, but in the end, they managed.

Even Daeron was impressed by the results: “Papa, does it look like the one you grew up ?”

They knew the stories. Their mother had been raised from city to city, never too long on a place to call it home. 

Their father, on the other hand, had been raised in one of Westeros biggest castles and only knew that place for the first four and ten years of his life.

Jon gave the boy a sad smile. The memories of Winterfell were far from sweet ones: a whole generation of an once-proud, noble family, corrupted and spoiled, reduced to act and think like greedy villains in a mummer´s farce.

And then, there was _Arya._

A sweet, warm, caring girl who died in the middle of a war, only to be replaced by some sort of killing machine with barely any human feeling or moral compass to call her own.

Whoever it was that came with Jon on that voyage was not worth remembering.

But the girl that had made Jon´s days at Winterfell _almos_ t happy ones... this Arya, he would always and forever remember.

Arya would live in his heart for as long as he lived.

Jon finally answered his son : “This castle we built looks much, _ much _ better than Winterfell ever was. ” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
